


Flit and Flutter, But Never Stutter

by xseaxwitchx



Series: Jaytim Week 2k18 [3]
Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Secret Relationship, Smut, is brought to light, smut with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 21:25:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14029077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xseaxwitchx/pseuds/xseaxwitchx
Summary: "Funny, because the warehouse he’s standing on top off echoed with gunfire and reeked of adrenaline. He smiled to himself, amused at the irony.His eyes slipped shut, allowing his other senses to sharpen a hair; his nose stung a little more with the smell of the harbor, the aroma potent enough he could taste it slightly; his ears caught the more subtle sounds of the water waves. And footsteps. Footsteps loud enough for only Tim to hear. Anyone else would be none the wiser."





	Flit and Flutter, But Never Stutter

**Author's Note:**

> First installment, yeet!
> 
> Have this thing that took me about two weeks.
> 
> Also, this is my first time writing smut, so go easy on me, yeah?

The gentle breeze of the night played with Tim’s hair, threading itself through the raven locks in a soothing motion. Currently, Tim donned his Red Robin suit, sans cowl and opted instead for his domino mask; he occasionally found himself missing the nightly breeze since his Robin days, or more appropriately nights, so he would use his domino instead of the cowl. The brick rooftop was solid, grimy, but still there, still resilient enough to stand despite its obvious wear and tear. He drew in a deep breath, smelling the salty water spray from the harbor, tinged with the always-present pollution. He let his breath out slowly, leaning on his extended bo staff, and just watched the slight waves crash back and forth, lapping at the sides of rocks and the sand and gravel of what could hardly be considered a beach. Tim felt a calmness wash over him as he took in the sight--no blood, no violence, no...anything. Just a calm stillness Tim hasn’t felt in the longest time.

Funny, because the warehouse he’s standing on top off echoed with gunfire and reeked of adrenaline. He smiled to himself, amused at the irony. 

His eyes slipped shut, allowing his other senses to sharpen a hair; his nose stung a little more with the smell of the harbor, the aroma potent enough he could taste it slightly; his ears caught the more subtle sounds of the water waves. And footsteps. Footsteps loud enough for only Tim to hear. Anyone else would be none the wiser.

Tim opened his eyes and turned around to see Red Hood approaching him. A happy smile replaces a serene one on Tim’s face as his boyfriend removed his helmet to reveal his own red domino. Wordlessly, as times before, Red Hood put his helmet on the ground, stalking towards Tim, swooping him into his arms, spinning him around once, twice, thrice, before finally giving Tim a peck on the lips.

“So, babe,” Red Hood started, a smirk settled on his face, “I was wondering if you’d join me for dinner?”

Tim raised one eyebrow, something all the bats learned from Alfred, in question. “Jay, it’s one-thirty in the morning. Dinner? Really? Just say you want some greasy food from the 24/7 diner on Vine Avenue,” responded Tim, well aware of his boyfriend’s appetite.

Jason just nuzzled his head into Tim’s neck, mumbling about something or another while Tim remained held in Jason’s arms. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught that,” Tim said teasingly. Jason just bit down enough on Tim’s neck to earn a surprised gasp from the latter. Jason chuckled as Tim pushed away from him, knowing it meant nothing but teasing. 

“C’mon, Red Robin, let’s go indulge ourselves in unnecessary calories,” Jason said as he picked up his helmet and settled it between his left side and left arm, looking at Tim and putting out his right hand for the latter to take. 

Tim collapsed his bo staff, then tucked it away on his utility belt. As he walked closer the Jason, Tim reached out his left hand, but at the last second, drew his hand away, a smirk plastered itself on his face as he told Jason, “Catch me if you can!” At that, Jason stood, mildly inconvenienced, taking a moment to process his annoyance. He didn’t get a chance to respond as Tim vaulted over the ledge and landed with a small thud off the two-story building, immediately taking off in the direction of the diner. 

Once Jason got his bearings, he followed Tim after putting his helmet back on. Jason caught up with Tim in no time, now becoming a full-on race to see who gets there first. Shenanigans like these are not uncommon, so they agreed that the loser has to pay for the meal, regardless of who proposed the idea--but the spontaneity of Tim’s quest left Jason vaguely stunned for a minute.

The winding streets started to get just steadily brighter as the two of them made their way around corners to the grease joint. 

Both of them made it to the door at the same time. “You...little...shit,” Jason huffed out. His stamina was more for surviving long fights, not running great distances. Tim laughed, a little breathlessly Jason noticed. Good, not him, then.

“Well, I’m your little shit. And you’re stuck with me, so deal with it,” Tim responded nonchalantly as he straightened his uniform out. He had to tug his pants up a little, wiggling his hips as he did so. He looked up to find Jason looking down at him, amused. 

“We got here at the same time. You know what that means, lover boy,” said Jason. 

“Oh, it’s on,” said Tim.

They prepared themselves, sticking their fists up, ready to play rock-paper-scissors. “Remember, Jay, two out of three wins and winner doesn’t have to fork over cash for the meal,” reminded Tim.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty, Red, because I might’ve just punched you for insulting me,” Jason said playfully.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoo,” they said in unison. 

Jason had a shit-eating grin on his face, but it’s not like Tim could tell; Jason still had his helmet on. Jason won the first round.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoo,” they repeated.

Tim’s turn to have a shit-eating grin decorating his face. 

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoo,” they repeated.

The air tensed as they both saw each other chose rock. With a hard-set determination, they glared at each other, daring the other to lose. 

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoo,” they repeated.

Tim let out a whoop of happiness as he won the two out of three required to win. Jason grumbled as he unlatched his helmet and tucked it under his left arm. They both walked in through the front door, glancing around the diner for anyone suspicious, aka not regulars.

“Why, hello boys! How’re y’all doin’ this ev’nin’?” greeted the lady, Edna, as she came up to them. She moved to Gotham from Alabama about two years ago--she has yet to lose the accent. She always worked the graveyard shifts as far as the boys know, and they’ve come here so often that she knows them well enough to the extent that the boys want her to. 

“Hey, Edna,” greeted Tim right back.

“Do you boys want your usual?” she asked.

“Of course,” answered Jason.

“Alright, I’ll go tell the chef while you boys take your seat.”

Not many occupied this diner at this time of night, so neither one of the boys felt anxious about an impending fight or even themselves. It felt nice. 

They found an empty booth and each slid into his own seat. They faced each other, then played a mini-game of footsies under the table in companionable silence, just waiting for their food. Their hands found each other on the table, so Tim laid his hand on top of Jason’s and nothing more. There didn’t need to be anything more.

***

Across the street, Nightwing sat on a rooftop observing their behavior in the restaurant. From what he saw, there’s intimacy and implicit trust between them, but he’s having a hard time deciding whether or not it was platonic because he knew that Tim started to express himself more with touch now, like Dick himself did with everyone, so Dick remained stumped. Maybe it warrants more investigation, but that’s for later. Right now, Nightwing has to go bust a drug gang that he traced back to Gotham from Blüdhaven. He shot out his grapple and flew away into the night, still perplexed and thinking about what he saw.

***

Tim and Jason finally got their food, diving in hungrily. “Ya know,” started Tim with a mouthful of hamburger, “never, in all my life, did I ever think I would touch this kind of food.” He finished his statement by swallowing the burger in his mouth then took a sip of his milkshake. 

Jason finished chewing his fry before swallowing and asked, “And?”

“And now, I’m glad because I never knew how much I was missing out on.” Tim took another bite of his burger, unceremoniously shoving the food into his mouth while humming a little with satisfaction, not noticing his stomach howling in hunger until his first bite.

Jason smiled softly, watching his lover eat. Jason would never understand how he got so lucky, why Tim agreed to do this, to be his boyfriend, especially after Jason tried to kill him, but those insecurities he shoved down for now. Tim doesn’t need to know about those just yet; after all, they’ve only been dating for about four months--too much emotional baggage.

Jason must’ve been lost in thought because his focus came back to him with an, “Earth to Red Hood” and an, “Are you gonna finish those fries?” He glanced down at his plate, seeing that he ate his entire burger but left a few fries on there. The plate slid across the table softly towards Tim, who grinned in glee, munching happily on the fries. To be entirely honest, Jason had no idea where Tim put all this food. His boyfriend sways from not eating enough to eating too much; what gets Jason is that Tim doesn’t feel sick on the days the latter basically food binges. On those days, Tim eats more than Jason. Jason doesn’t know how to feel about that.

So Jason busied himself with finishing his milkshake and taking out the money needed to pay for the meals. 

“I’ve been meanin’ ta ask ya two something. Y’all’re always so sweet on one another; how long have y’all been datin’?” Edna makes her presence known with the previous statement, coming to whisk away the dirty dishes from the table. 

Jason beat Tim in answering the question. “No ma’am, we’re not dating. We’re just close friends.”

Edna made a face that, if Jason is not mistaken, looked a bit crestfallen. How long did she think that they were dating? He thought they were being careful. Maybe not as careful as they thought.

“Well,” recovered Edna, “you know what to do. Have a good rest of the ev’nin’ boys.” She collected the dirty dishes then headed to the kitchens.

They both slid out of their seats, Jason leading as Tim trailed behind. Jason paid the necessary amount, then they both headed out the door. 

As they strolled along the sidewalk, their hands briefly touched, sending a little jolt of excitement down both their spines. As they come up at an empty alleyway, Tim pulled Jason into it before pinning the much larger man against the brick wall. “Red, what are you do _ ahhh _ ,” Jason started to question, voice slightly garbled by the helmet’s voice modulation software, but trailed off as Tim bit his neck, eliciting a breathy moan from the older man.

“Tomorrow night, my place. Just you and me, same time as tonight,” Tim whispered in Jason’s ear. Jason nearly buckled his knees and fell at the heavy desire in Tim’s voice and the clear implication of his statement. It was hot, no matter if the younger man was on his tiptoes to reach Jason’s ear the way he wants. Tim threw Jason a smirk, knowing full well what he does to his lover, then grappled away into the night. Jason smiled to himself, looking forward to tomorrow night.

It’s just unfortunate how that evening begins for Tim.

***

“Why does Drake have to join us for this? It is a simple task of taking out a group of drug dealers,” Damian stated as he made his way over to Bruce and Dick by the Batcomputer from the locker area. He quickly adjusted his shirt and utility belt before looking up and Dick. 

“Well,” Dick started, serious tone in place, “I wanted Tim to join because I haven’t seen him lately and I miss him. Plus,”--he paused to look down at Damian--”you two need to learn to get along better. You’re always fighting, and not in a ‘good sibling rivalry’ way. He’s family, and I think you need to start realizing that sooner rather than later.” Dick turned back to look at the screen of the Batcomputer as Damian scowled, causing him to wrinkle his nose in disgust, muttering about how he would hardly see Drake as anything more than an ally, but not without tension.

“Tt, I still don’t think it’s the best course of action after that pitiful display of recklessness last month. How do we know he won’t act on impulse again?” said Damian.

“He does have a point, Dick. With an operation this sensitive, we can’t risk impulsiveness,” Bruce stated, not looking away from the screen.

“Sensitive operation? Seriously, Bruce? We take out a few bad guys, snatch the flash drive, call the GCPD, then get out; nothing none of us haven’t done before. And I don’t think I’ve ever heard you doubt Tim’s abilities until now,” responded Dick with incredulity. 

“These drug dealers have decided to take hostages; five exactly. And I found they’re part of a bigger operation, so simply taking them out and rescuing hostages is not going to be easy. They also decided to have snipers on the surrounding rooftops. And I’m not doubting Tim’s abilities, I just…” Bruce started explaining, trailing off at the end. But he found his voice again, finishing with, “...I just think that maybe he needs some time off.”

“You know, Bruce, you shouldn’t have reprimanded Tim for his actions. It saved everyone from that fire, and you know it. It’s quite hypocritical anyway, considering how impulsive you were when I was Robin,” Dick said nonchalantly, leaning against the Batcomputer console. He glanced at Bruce to gauge a reaction, but Bruce simply grunted in response. Dick huffed, busying himself with sweeping his eyes about the cave. He doesn’t contact Bruce for three days, and he just finds out the extra information before going in. Real smart, Bruce; very appreciated.

Dick caught Damian inspecting a batarang from the hood of the Batmobile. Damian seemed to take a very keen interest in a particular spot on the outer edge. 

Where was Tim? The clock on the Batcomputer read 22:05pm, five minutes after the agreed time for Tim’s arrival.

Just as Dick thought about contacting Tim, Tim walked into the cave from the clock entrance. “Hey, Timmy,” greeted Dick.

“Hey, Dick,” Tim greeted back with a wave of his hand as he made his way over to the locker area with a duffel bag containing all his Red Robin gear. Damian looked up and gave an indignant humph at Tim as he strolled past.

Tim made it to the locker area and started to change out of his civilian clothes and into his uniform. The cave felt heavy to everyone. The cave fell silent with the exception of Bruce’s clicking on the keys of the Batcomputer and the rustling of clothes and gear.

Damian kept himself busy by pulling out another batarang for inspection even though he knew it didn’t need it. Dick remained in his position against the console, arms folded over his chest, eyes roaming the cave. Bruce continued to work at the computer, not bothering with a greeting; his anger with Tim’s actions last month failed to cease, but not because what Tim did went against his teachings, but because Bruce didn’t want to lose another son to flames, to youthful impulsiveness.

Tim made his way to the Batcomputer, preparing to ask about his part in the mission, but Dick opened his mouth before Tim could say anything.

“What’s up with the smile, Timmers?” questioned Dick. Not a smile, but a slight upturn in his mouth caught Dick’s eyes, a wistfulness painting Tim’s features, and Dick wanted to know why.

Tim played it off fairly easily. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Unbeknownst to the three others present in the cave, Tim just came back from a movie date with Jason. During the movie, they cuddled into each other on the top row, too enraptured with the movie to do much else.

Dick quirked his brow, knowing Tim lied. Tim played it off fairly easy, but no one said convincingly. 

“Anyway, what’s the plan?” asked Tim. He stood on the other side of Bruce, waiting for an answer. Damian beat his father to the punch.

“For one, you’re not needed. This mission would be completed perfectly with three of us.” Barely concealed venom laced Damian’s words as he stalked up the stairs and over to Tim, daring Tim to challenge him.

“Dames, the more the merrier. And the faster we can take out the bad guys,” interjected Dick. He didn’t want an argument to flourish between the two youngest birds.

“Stay out of this, Grayson; it does not concern you,” Damian snapped.

“If you believe what you said, shouldn’t the person who kicked Lady Shiva’s ass go and the little baby demon stay behind?” Tim responded smugly. This was a new boldness from Tim. Dick didn’t know how to feel about it.

“I was trained since I was in diapers. I killed my first man when I was barely a quarter of your age. If either of us is qualified, it’s me.”

“Hardly. I remember very distinctly that I put you in your place when we spared. You would end up on your ass as I stood above you.”

“Last time we spared, you were the one who ended up on his ass.”

“Once out of how many times?”

Dick did not like the direction of this argument. His struggle with what to say to attempt to de-escalate the situation stopped when Damian’s statement shocked Dick out of his reverie. 

“Have you ever considered that maybe you’re just not wanted?” Damian immediately regretted his statement, dread filling him, knowing how hard both he and Tim worked to forge their current relationship. Damian’s heart dropped with incredible speed, wishing he had better control of his temper.

Tim’s eyes widened a fraction, his grip on his bo staff strengthened until his knuckles turned white.

“Damian…” Bruce growled out, ready to reprimand his blood-son for saying such a thing, but couldn’t finish as Tim started to laugh.

The laugh, devoid of warmth, possessed a biting bitterness that left the cave colder, a chill running through each person’s bones.

“Have you ever considered,” stated Tim coldly, straightening up as he did so, “that I already knew that? My late parents did a great job of reminding me of how much they never planned for me, of how much I was just an accident who ruined their lives, their plans; Jason came back from the dead, hellbent on killing me; you, coming along and worming your way to the Robin mantle; Dick, for kicking me out of it and giving it to you. Bruce, barely paying me any attention anymore. The only person that ever made me feel wanted was Alfred, but now that I have my own place, even that reassurance is gone.” 

With each person’s name, Tim stepped forward, bearing down on Damian in a way no one has seen before. Dick stood perfectly still, shocked. Damian, with each word, widened his eyes in, for a long time, genuine fear, stepping back with each advance of Tim. Bruce stopped typing, turning his head to his second youngest, guilt and dread and anger eating at his core.

Tim stopped advancing on Damian when he said the last word as if to punctuate his point with a dreadful finality. Tim crossed his arms across his chest, bo staff tucked neatly into one armpit, his stance exuding coldness, mercilessness, ruthlessness, as he stared down the youngest bat, Tim’s turn to challenge the other. The former’s eyes held blazing but controlled rage, jaw set into a sharp intimidation, mouth curled into a mirthless smirk that bordered on a ruthless sneer. At that moment, Tim Drake didn’t exist, neither did Red Robin, neither did Tim Drake-Wayne; the person who stood in front of Damian was Timothy Jackson Drake, an enraged individual who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted, when he wanted it; an enraged individual who relied only on himself, who figured out from a young age that if he wasn’t wanted, that maybe he should fit that, finalized with unyielding cruelty.

Impending violence and promised threats hung in the air, weighing heavy on each person that was not Tim. He stalked off to the locker area to pick up his things, then leave. No mission or attempt to try to talk to Bruce about what happened last month was worth this bullshit.

Dick shook himself, taking himself out of the daze he found himself trapped in and focused on Tim, who was stepping into the elevator. 

“Tim, I…”

“No.” Tim cut off Dick. Tim fixed his eldest brother with a cold stare, daring the latter to continue. Dick closed his mouth, not wanting to upset his brother more. Tim sneered in a way that sent shivers racing down the spine, a sneer that conveyed he would most definitely enjoy beating someone at the moment, a sneer only found on an enemy’s face. Tim leaned back into the elevator, pushed the top button, and the door closed. 

In the elevator, Tim let out a shaky breath. He knows what he did, what he said, but he couldn’t stop any of it from happening, even if he wanted to; the brat poked at just the right nerves and sent Tim into overdrive. Tim knew that his laughter felt cold and mocking, he knows his words stung. But maybe he can’t truly regret it; seeing the look of genuine terror and pure fear in Damian’s posture provided satisfaction to Tim--a sick satisfaction, but one nonetheless.

As the elevator ascended, the bodies in the cave could do nothing but stare--at the walls, at the floor, at each other, at the elevator--at whatever was in their vicinity. 

Bruce sighed, heavy with exhaustion and his previous emotions still swirling in his gut. “Alright boys, let’s go.” Those words conveyed all the words he could muster after Tim’s display; the words served as a symbol to all he couldn’t say.

All three silently made their way to the Batmobile, hopping in and driving off with only the engine to fill the silence.

***

Tim stepped out of the elevator and into the gathering room, eyes sweeping across each piece of furniture, a slight wave of nostalgia overcoming him. He made his way through the room, and down the long hallway to the front door, but decided to head to the kitchen before he left. 

“Hey, Alfred,” said Tim as he took notice of the butler bending down in front of the oven. He also spotted a plate of cookies, tempted to steal one but decided against that as he doesn’t exactly know the cookies’ purpose. 

Alfred bent back up, taking a pan of baked cookies and setting it on top of the stove. He briefly turned his head, a faint smile playing on his lips and he said, “Hello, Master Timothy.” He turned back to start scraping the cookies off the baking sheet and placing them on the cooling racks that sat adjacent to the stove. 

“If you would like, you may eat a couple of cookies. They were supposed to be for all four of you after you all came back from the mission. Which, if I may be frank, shouldn’t you be with the others?” Alfred spoke to Tim without looking up from his work, loud enough so Tim could hear Alfred over his shoulder.

Tim gulped, guilt trying to claw its way into his throat, but he refused to let that show. In an attempt to avoid the question, Tim responded, “I’d rather not talk about.” He picked up a cookie, nibbling gingerly on it, one hand tightening ever so slightly on the strap of his duffel bag. For being trained by the Bat, Tim sure showed anxiety around Alfred and had a hard time hiding it; then again, Bruce himself had a hard time hiding anything from Alfred.

Finished with placing the cookies on the cooling racks, the butler put down the plastic spatula, turning around to face the young boy. The former’s face held the signature “I really want to know what’s going on because I love you and want to help but I don’t want to intrude” look, complete with a worried eyebrow raise.

Tim avoided looking directly at Alfred’s eyes, instead opting to look over Alfred’s shoulder, suddenly finding interest in the cabinet handles while munching on his first cookie. He finally found his voice again after he cleared his throat. “Could I take some to go?” The question held a twinge of hope, and Alfred heard it.

“Of course, Master Timothy. Allow me to go retrieve a storage bag from the pantry.”

“Thanks, Alf,” Tim mumbled through his mouthful of cookie. He stood by himself in the kitchen, thinking about tonight, or more specifically, what should be happening about three hours from now, and found he couldn’t wait that long for Jason. Tim was angry, anxious, scared, afraid, exhausted. Maybe he could fuck all his emotions away; maybe Jason could fuck all of Tim’s emotions away. 

Just as Tim whipped out his phone, Alfred returned with a plastic bag and started filling it with cookies. Tim texted Jason, hoping his boyfriend stayed around his regular patrol route, not venturing too far, or busy with anything too important. 

Tim stared at his phone after he sent the text. It read simply  _ I need you _ .

But maybe Jason didn’t need Tim. Maybe Jason doesn’t want him anymore. Maybe Tim posed a bother to Jason. Maybe he should just call it off. Yeah, call it off. That wouldn’t make Jason suspicious at all. Wait...maybe it wouldn’t. But then Tim would have to give a reason because Jason would be relentless until he knew why. Maybe Tim could lie to Jason. Never mind, that never boded well. No, Tim doesn’t owe Jason an explanation. Tim can be--

His thoughts screeched to a halt as Alfred’s hand on Tim’s shoulder jolted him back to reality. He looked up to see something sad in the butler’s otherwise neutral expression. Alfred quirked the side of his mouth into a sort of sad smile, handing the bag of cookies to Tim before squeezing Tim’s shoulder in the exact way Bruce does to everyone. Wait, did Bruce learn that from Alfred?

“I, uh,” Tim began, then cleared his throat, finishing with, “thank you, Alfred. I’ll enjoy every crumb.” He tried to sound, well, not depressed, not like he’s fighting emotional turmoil, but he knew it probably failed because Alfred always had a way of just knowing.

Tim stuffed the bag of cookies into his partially-opened duffel bag, then slipped his phone into his utility belt. He hadn’t bothered to take off his uniform yet.

His feet guided him to the front door through the seemingly endless hallway. He opened the heavy wooden door, steeling himself to fight the urge to contact the other three and race to help them. A deep breath he didn’t know he held passed his lips as he stepped over the threshold and strolled over to his motorcycle--well, Red Robin’s motorcycle.

He tossed and secured his duffel bag onto the back of his motorcycle. He mounted the vehicle effortlessly. Just as he prepared to speed down the drive and into the night, back to his apartment, his phoned dinged, indicating a text message received. His right foot found ground, keeping himself and the motorcycle up. He pulled out his phone and entered his passcode, wondering what Jason had to say.  _ Babe, what happened? Are you okay? What do I need to do? Where do I need to go?  _ Each message came after one another as soon as Tim finished reading the previous. 

His fingers fly across the touchscreen keyboard:  _ I need you to go to my place ASAP. Possibly with pizza...and maybe beer. _ He told himself he added the beer bit just to know Jason’s reaction, but deep down he felt he needed to drown his sorrows, as cliche as it sounds. And maybe he’s a little curious to know what beer tastes like. He sent the text and waited patiently to see if his boyfriend would respond within the next minute. Needless to say, Jason wasted no time.

_ A yes to both your place and pizza, but no beer. You get a sugar-high from SODA tonight, not drunk on beer; you’re too young.  _ Tim snorted briefly. Damn hypocrite.

_ Fine. _ Tim sent the text, putting his phone back into his utility belt, and revving up the motorcycle. He sped down the driveway, the darkness swallowing him as Alfred watched from the window, worry evident on his face for his grandson.

***

Batman, Nightwing, and Robin had heaving chests as each gasped for breath. The thugs put up a real fight, most armed with baseball bats and knives--the worst part being that the ones with knives knew how to use their weapons  _ well.  _ On the bright side, no one died and the vigilantes managed to tie those inside the warehouse up.

“Ya know,” Dick forced out between breaths, “this woulda been easier with Red Robin here.”

“Tt,” responded Damian, who was trying to hide the obvious lack of oxygen just as his father, “we did...fine without him.”

“Nightwing’s right,” Bruce chimed in. He regained his breathing fairly quickly compared to the boys. What transpired with Tim still ate at his mind, but that didn’t cloud the fact it genuinely would’ve been tactically useful to have had Tim there.

Damian shot his father a glare, but Bruce ignored it. The Batman led his chargin to the Batmobile waiting about six blocks away from the warehouse as he contacted the GCPD. “Nightwing, stay here and wait for the police. Robin and I are going back to the cave for a...discussion.” The last word was growled out with much-concentrated effort. Damian’s face turned to one of utter impassiveness as he shrunk in on himself, knowing what needs discussion. 

“Okay, Batman,” Dick said as a vocal acknowledgment he heard Bruce.

Dick’s own guilt was eating away at him as well. He had no idea how hurt Tim felt when he gave the Robin mantle to Damian. Dick gave Damian Robin because Dick thought it would be beneficial to the youngest bat, to help his youngest brother realize the goodness Dick knew Damian possessed. Plus, Dick thought Tim would, at that point in his Robin career, be better as a solo performer--to make a new name for himself as Dick once did. Now, in this warehouse, Dick felt so alone despite other people being around; he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts.

***

Bruce’s anger showed clearly when the Batmobile came to an ear-splitting, deafening halt in the cave, scaring almost all the bats that hung from the top of the cave. He popped the roof open, jumping out and angrily throwing down his cowl. Damian trailed pathetically behind him. 

Damian knew the trouble he brought onto himself as soon as Drake’s display ended with the elevator ascension. Never had Damian seen his father so angry, and to have that anger directed at him made him both guilty and scared, two emotions Damian loathed.

“Father?” he asked weakly. Bruce was seated at the Batcomputer, back to his son. Damian met with nothing but silence--something always more frightening than screams and flying objects. Damian had flashbacks of his time in the League, where violence followed silence as his punishment. He knows that father wouldn’t do those things though, right? Right now, though, right now he couldn’t be sure.

“Father? I did no--” Damian began but Bruce interrupted him.

“You will change out of your Robin uniform. You will take a shower. You will head upstairs. You will go directly to your room. You do as I just told you or you will be grounded from the Robin mantle for three months  _ minimum _ ,” Bruce ordered, no room left to question his authority found in his voice. He didn’t even have the decency to turn around in his chair to directly face his youngest.

Damian gulped, not responding, and set to complete the orders given by his father.

***

Tim lounged on his couch in loose gray sweatpants and a black crew-neck that looked about two sizes too big because it was Jason’s. Tim scrolled through Netflix, trying to find something that might intrigue him when his mind didn’t drift to his anxieties and insecurities. Sometimes he made an effort to ignore them, sometimes he didn’t; ‘tis life.

His Red Robin uniform lay discarded under his bed in the bedroom, his duffel bag in his closet; but not before he took out Alfred’s cookies. Which he munched on currently. Alfred generously filled the bag, so there was enough for him to indulge yet still save some for Jason. The family unanimously agreed Alfred always made the best food.

There came a tapping at his window. Tim lifted himself onto his knees after he paused “House of Cards.” He faced the window behind the couch, looking at Red Hood who brought what he promised to.

Jason couldn’t help but think how cute his boyfriend looked. Tim had slightly ruffled hair, owlish eyes wide in curiosity, and swam in one of his, Jason’s, shirts. Jason kind of shrugged after a minute, a 2-liter soda and cheese pizza in one hand, the other resting on the window pane.

Tim put down the remote control, gripping the back of the couch and launching himself over to open the window for his boyfriend. As soon as he did, Jason shoved the pizza and soda at Tim with a, “Here, Timbo,” and climbed into the apartment as Tim made his way to the coffee table to join the pizza and soda with the cookies. He plopped down on the couch, taking the remote and placing it on the coffee table.

Meanwhile, Jason took off his helmet, domino mask, and jacket, dumping them on the floor by the couch. His boots joined the aforementioned items. He walked into Tim’s room, taking out a pair of black sweatpants and gray muscle-shirt from his duffel bag hidden in the closet. He figured from Tim’s texts that he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon, so no real reason to keep his uniform on. He changed quickly, pulling the shirt over his head as he made his way to the kitchen for cups for the soda. 

After he retrieved the cups, he walked into the living room, setting the cups down on the coffee table, then plopping down next to Tim. An arm snaked around Tim’s shoulders and he leaned into Jason’s side. But only a little. Hm, that was strange. Tim would cuddle into Jason’s side, not just lean on his shoulder on nights like this. 

“Hey Timmy, what’s bothering you?” Jason leaned toward Tim and placed a chaste kiss on Tim’s temple, lingering there for a few seconds before pulling away, a silent way of saying “I support you” when Tim failed to answer immediately. 

Tim made no indication to show Jason did anything. But then, he took Jason’s arm from around his shoulders and lightly placed Jason’s hand onto Jason’s knee. The older man had befuddlement mixed with intense worry etched on his face. Tim knew his actions were odd, so now’s a good time as ever to let everything out. He drew a deep breath in, then let it out slowly as Jason stared at him, patient.

“This evening did not start out well. At all,” started Tim blankly. 

“I figured considering you texted me ‘ _ I need you _ .’ And the fact you wanted to meet up about three hours before what we agreed,” Jason said, reserved, not sure of Tim’s direction.

“It was because of Damian.”

“What the hell did that demon spawn do?!”

“It’s...ah...more what he said. He asked me if I ever considered that I might not be wanted.”

Jason’s mind stopped working as he looked at his boyfriend who tried to sound nonchalant about the whole thing. Tim’s body betrayed him as his eyes misted over with built up emotions, his voice cracked ever so slightly on the word “wanted.”

“And I, uh, retaliated with my own words. It was a bit surreal, I admit, but it...it got me thinking--”

“Absolutely not.” Jason already figured what Tim was going to say or at least had an idea of Tim’s thoughts because Jason frequently thought the same things.

“Let me tell you a few things about yourself; come here, babe.” The older man gestured for the younger man to sit in his lap. Tim hesitated for a moment, wondering what Jason had to say. Then, Tim crawled his way over to his boyfriend, straddled Jason’s lap, his hands hanging behind Jason’s neck. 

Jason’s hands went to sit on Tim’s thighs innocently. Stormy blue eyes stared into turquoise ones as Tim waited for Jason to continue.

“Timothy, let me start by saying I’m the luckiest person in the world.” Jason used his real, full name first name, so Tim knows what Jason’s about to say should be taken seriously. “Do you know why that is? Because I have you.” Tim looked away bashfully, his cheeks tinged pink. Jason took one of his hands and grabbed Tim’s chin, forcing the latter to look him in the eyes. “You’re a wonderful human being. You make a difference in the world. You have friends who love you, who  _ want  _ you, and if that’s not enough, at least let  _ me  _ be enough.” Jason punctuated the statement with a peck on Tim’s lips and one on his jaw.

“Jay, I...I can’t see it. Everyone I love dies eventually and I can’t believe your words. I’ll  _ always  _ make mistakes, I’ll  _ always _ end up killing peo--”

“Shhh.” Jason placed a finger on Tim’s lips. “I haven’t died yet.”

“Yes, you have, Jay.”

“Yeaaahhh, but not in your context.”

“Shut up and let me feel self-pity.”

“Mmm, no. Not in a million years.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Okay, but you will eventually. Especially with all my fuckups. Don’t you want an easy love?” Jason removed his finger from Tim’s lips

“Easy is not in either of our vocabularies.”

Jason took the hand from Tim’s lips to run it through Tim’s hair lightly, Jason’s eyes full of adoration and love so pure Tim found it hard to look away.

“I never said it was going to be easy, did I, Timmy? I have my own fuckups. Do you know why? Because we’re human. You decided to give me a chance, knowing full well what you were getting yourself into. You know what? I knew what I was chancing with asking you out. We’ve agreed to accept each other the way each of us is; don’t let that change because of what the demon brat said, yeah?” Jason tucked a piece of hair behind Tim’s ear as Jason finished carding his hand through the soft ebony strands and his explanation. Tim teetered on the edge of crying because he didn’t even know he needed those words to be said to him until he heard them. So he went with the first thing that came to mind.

“I never took you to be the sappy romantic type,” Tim managed to say before getting pulled to Jason’s chest in a hug with a yelp ending his response. 

Jason whispered in Tim’s ear, “I’m a sappy romantic when my lover needs me to be.” Lover. Jason said lover. That’s a whole new level of intimacy than anything else. 

Tim pushed himself off of his boyfriend’s chest and crashed his lips to Jason’s. Gentleness, passion, love poured into the kiss.

They pulled back from each other, needing air. A mirthful smile painted its way onto Tim’s face and a happy one on Jason’s.

“Jason Peter Todd, I think it’s official to say I’m in love with you.” 

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne--Jesus, that’s a mouthful--I think I’m officially in love with you, too.” Jason planted a heated kiss on Tim’s lips, the intent clear. 

Tim pulled away, placing a finger to Jason’s mouth. “Nu-uh. Not yet. I still want my pizza and soda.” He fished the bag of cookies from the coffee table. “And you to help me finish Alfred’s cookies.” Jason beamed, then gently tossed Tim to the side, who giggled in surprise, off his lap, to dive in.

“Good,” Jason started with a playful smile, “I’m starving.”

***

Jason ate his pizza and sipped his soda with his feet on the coffee table. Tim ate his pizza and drank his soda with his legs crisscrossed on the couch near Jason. They didn’t talk much as they ate (they never really did), and watched two episodes of “The Last Kingdom” per Jason’s request.

“Here, I’ll take your stuff,” Tim offered to Jason when they both finished eating.

“Thanks, Timmy. Want me to pause?”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Tim gathered Jason’s trash, then headed to the kitchen. 

After the trash made a home in the garbage can, Tim leaned his right hip against the counter, staring at Jason and thinking about the words he told Tim. The younger man had a hard time believing those words, no matter how full of love those words might’ve been; he still doubted them, both the words and this relationship. Maybe he’s doomed to never have a happy relationship that’ll last long. He must’ve been staring too long because Jason turned his head to the former, cocked an eyebrow and let out a small sigh. The latter turned the TV off and padded his way to Tim.

Jason wordlessly took Tim’s hands in his own, gripping each with certainty. He started walking backward slowly, urging Tim to follow by keeping their hands together and a soft smile playing on his lips. Tim followed, albeit reluctantly.

Jason didn’t hasten his pace, and Tim possessed no desire to go faster. Slowly, gently, they made their way to Tim’s queen-size bed. Jason turned them around so Tim’s legs hit the back of the bed. He couldn’t confidently move anything, transfixed on the older man with curiosity and...something else he couldn’t find the exact word for. 

Jason gently pushed his lover onto the bed, the latter setting himself down and letting the former dictate the speed of the actions. Jason crawled over Tim, legs resting on either side. The older man reached one hand under the other’s neck, lifting up his head and laying their lips together. 

And there they stayed for a moment, no grinding, no dirty thoughts, no movement for either. They held that position, stillness taking over the room, the moonlight barely peeking into the room through the pollution clouds that hung over Gotham, the caw of a crow flying past the window.

Tim inhaled through his nose, turning his head away from the sweet lips, biting his own bottom one, insecurities still eating away at his mind.

“Tim?” Jason asked lightly, taking his hand from the back of Tim’s neck and stroked his cheek with his thumb. Tim met Jason’s eyes once, then flipped their positions. He might be small, but that doesn’t mean he possesses no strength.

The flip took Jason by surprise and before he knew it, Tim’s mouth crashed with his, full of desperation, need, want, hot and heavy. He pushed Tim away from his mouth by the shoulders, holding him there.

“Babybird, why are you so desperate, hm?” Jason questioned.

“I want to fuck you. Or you to fuck me. I don’t know, maybe both. I don’t care, I just want to forget what happened and a rough fucking can do that,” answered Tim, not stopping for a second to think about the words tumbling out of his mouth.

“No, there’s going to be no fucking tonight.” Jason flipped their positions. “Fucking someone to let off steam, or being fucked by someone to let off steam, leaves you feeling empty, unresolved. Trust me, I know that all too well.” Jason peppered kisses on Tim’s face. “By the end of the night, you’ll know just how much you’re wanted.” Jason finished with a hard kiss to Tim’s mouth. Without breaking contact, Jason flipped their positions once again.

Tim’s hands snaked their way into Jason’s hair as Jason’s hands mirrored Tim’s. The younger man fell onto the older one, sinking into his chest, into the kiss. The former bit the bottom lip of the latter, earning a light gasp from his partner. The partner took the other’s mouth, tongue darting in and out, creating a dance between the two muscles as they fought for dominance.

Tim’s hips, having a mind of their own, ground down into Jason’s roughly, eliciting a moan from both parties as their clothed cocks ran against each other. Sensing no objection from Jason, Tim allowed his hips to continue their slow, sensual pace, successfully earning moans from each man. Both still had their mouths clashing, swallowing all the moans from his partner in desperation--Tim, in desperation to feel wanted and Jason, in desperation to show Tim how much he wanted him. The intimacy between the two and the meaning behind their actions left both of them high-strung on emotion, the make-out session being the most intense either had experienced.

They broke apart from each other, gasping for air, stormy-gray meeting turquoise, both clouded with a million different emotions fighting for the stage. Tim’s hips stilled as both parties struggled to regain their breath.

Jason rolled them over, Tim below him once more. He reached up and removed Tim’s hands from his raven ruffles, got up and strolled over to the bedside table. Tim turned to his side, eyes following his boyfriend, knowing what Jason had in mind. Jason opened the drawer and took out the bottle of lube, tossing it onto the pillows for the inevitable night’s activities. Jason smirked at his lover, his lover smirking back and reaching out to him, making grabby hands like a 2-year-old. Just when Jason thought his boyfriend couldn’t get any cuter.

Jason side-pounced onto Tim who crawled back, head hitting the pillows just before the headboard. Jason locked lips with him again, arms holding himself up on each of Tim’s sides. The younger’s hands found their way to the hem of the older’s shirt, tugging at the hem and him whining into the kiss, a way of insisting Jason remove his shirt. Jason chuckled into the kiss, pulling away to quickly pull his shirt over his head and discard it somewhere to the side of Tim’s bed. Tim absolutely beamed while running his hands up and down Jason’s torso, feeling each twitch and strain of the exposed muscles.

“See, if I’m going to be shirtless,” Jason stated smugly, “you’ll be joining me.” He reached towards the hem of Tim’s, or in actuality his, shirt and tugged up until Tim raised his arms for the shirt to slip completely off. Jason tossed the shirt to the side of the room. Jason took a moment to trace Tim’s sides, rigid with muscle. Tim’s muscles didn’t look anywhere near sculpted like Jason’s, but nonetheless, Tim’s skin possessed soft outlines of hard muscles on both his arms and torso.

Tim continued to slowly move his hands up and down Jason’s torso, hoping the movement would push down the negative thoughts eating at his mind. Maybe Jason agreed to this just to have sex. Maybe after all of Jason’s sweet-talking, Jason meant none of it; maybe just wanted Tim to shut up. Maybe--

His train of thought derailed as Jason grazed his teeth against one of Tim’s nipples and Tim let out a moan. Jason smirked. “Stay with me, babybird. We don’t need your mind drifting.” Tim knew what Jason meant, the unsaid loudly spoken in the silence hanging off the last word. He forced himself to look at the man hovering above him, taking in Jason’s dilated pupils, no doubt Tim’s to match. 

Jason straddled Tim, leaning some of his weight on the boy beneath him, but not too much. His hands roamed Tim’s sides, a thumb occasionally ghosting over one of Tim’s nipples, hardening them and sending a full body shiver through him. Tim’s breathing remained steady, hitched when Jason toyed with a nipple and whimpered when Jason grazed his teeth over a nipple. Tim felt himself steadily growing harder, and knew Jason knew by the way Tim’s dick pressed against Jason’s ass. If the outline in Jason’s sweatpants posed no lie, Jason’s own dick grew hard.

Tim received confirmation of his suspicions when Jason leaned down and bit into Tim’s slender neck. With the feel of Jason’s hard-on pressing down onto his stomach and the sensation of Jason’s teeth in his neck, Tim couldn’t hold back a long, low, loud moan right in one of Jason’s ears. The response only encouraged Jason more.

“Such a needy baby boy, aren’t you?” Jason whispered into Tim’s ear. He ground into Tim softly.

“Nghh, Jaybird...I am...ahhh, oh God...ah, oh, mph…” Tim tried to speak but failed as Jason softly ground into Tim slowly, him moaning and groaning at the agonizing pace as the clothed cocks rutted against each other.

“Can’t for me, hm? Can’t for my cock to fill you? What do you want, baby?”

“I want...fuuuuck, Jay...I need you.  _ Fuck _ , ngh.”

“Oh, you need me? Don’t worry, I won’t leave, babybird. I won’t ever leave you.”

For the next couple of minutes, Tim found himself a moaning, whimpering mess with his hands tangled in Jason’s hair as the latter relentlessly worked at the slender neck and collarbone, leaving dark hickies in his wake. 

Jason started traveling lower, trailing soft kisses down from Tim’s chest to the waistband of Tim’s sweatpants. Each kiss left Tim wanting more. Each kiss burned into Tim’s flesh in the best way possible. Each kiss made Tim quicken the pacing of his breathing. When Jason got to his sweatpants, Tim looked down at his boyfriend, making eye contact.

“Please, Jay,” whispered Tim as he gripped the sheets beside, hands abandoning Jason’s head. He could feel the slight damp spot on the sweatpants his pre-cum left from Jason’s teasing. Tim didn’t think he could hold on much longer.

In response, Jason took his time lowering the sweatpants down, dragging the waistband against the now-erect cock as Tim lifted his hips subconsciously. The slow pace made Tim visibly shiver with anticipation, breathing shallow. Once the sweatpants made it past Tim’s balls, Jason wasted no time ripping off the sweatpants the rest of the way. 

Tim spread his legs so Jason had enough room to lay between them. Jason took the opportunity to quickly rid himself of his sweatpants to join them on the floor with Tim’s. Jason crawled back onto the bed, positioning himself between Tim’s legs. He started to lazily pump up and down Tim’s shaft, grinning slyly, Tim arching his back and letting out a loud moan after the first pump in anticipated surprise.

“Jaybird, please, this is...this. is. agonizing,” Tim said through panting.

“There’s a reason for everything,” said Jason. “Your begging is adorable.”

“Shut up, asshole...nghhhh, ahhh.”

“Babybird is impatient for his release, isn’t he?”

“Hate when you...ah...when you edge me.”

“But you love it when I let you cum and I love watching your pretty face scrunch up in bliss.”

“Jaaaaaay,” Tim whimpered.

After that, Jason made Tim into a mess, complete with nearly uncontrollable moaning, bucking hips, hair sticking to his forehead, and a sheen of sweat covering his body. 

Jason couldn’t help but think how beautiful Tim looked.

“Jay… Jay, pl-ahhh-please. I’m gonna… I-I’m gonna...,” Tim mewled out. Jason knew what Tim tried to communicate, so he let go of Tim’s cock. Tim threw him a pleading look complete with a sexy pout.

Jason took Tim’s cock in his hands and leaned down, licked the tip. Tim gasped loudly and his entire body jerked in response as his hands tightened their grip on the bed sheets. Jason swirled his tongue around the tip, leaving Tim begging for more. Finally, Jason stretched his mouth over the cock and started bobbing up and down, hollowing his cheeks and pressing his tongue to the underside of Tim’s cock.

Tim wiggled and writhed underneath him, each moan louder than the next, each attempted word grew more incomprehensible. Jason chose an agonizingly slow pace for a reason. 

As he felt Tim’s cock twitch in his mouth, he took Tim all the way until his nose touched the base of Tim’s cock. The action sent Tim overboard as Jason felt the pulsing of the ejaculation at the back of his throat, and felt the semen force its way down his throat. He also heard Tim loudly moan Jason’s name, no shame in how lewd it sounded. 

Jason pulled off, letting the limp cock lay against Tim’s lower stomach. He moved to press gentle kisses on Tim’s thighs, softly biting once or twice, then licking over the bite to soothe the sting. 

Meanwhile, Tim breathed heavily, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace, attempting to come down from his high. Jason’s kisses against his thighs felt, for the first time, soothing, not overstimulating. Tim focused on the fluttering touches inside his thighs as he felt Jason have a very subtle rhythm to the placement of his kisses to try to slow his breathing.

He eventually caught his breath, his vision sharpening into focus once more. He found Jason laying next to him, moving his finger in slow figure-8s on Tim’s midsection. He met Jason with a shy kiss as he reached to grip Jason’s cock. Jason swatted him away. “No no, babybird.”

Jason found the bottle of lube and squirted some on his fingers. He lazily reached down between Tim’s legs to find Tim’s asshole, rubbing circles around the ring of muscle. Tim sighed in pleasure, enjoying the feeling until Jason shoved a finger in and curled it, moving slowly in and out. Tim’s breath hitched but evened out immediately after. Jason added a second finger after a few seconds and continued with his previous motions.

Tim lay exhausted on the bed, not exactly aroused by Jason’s actions, but more akin to pleased because it felt nice. He knew eventually he’d be getting hard again, but Jason rushed nothing. He let Tim take as much time as he needed to recover.

“Jay, I think I’m ready,” Tim announced after a few minutes of Jason’s ministrations. 

“Alright, Timmybird, gimme a minute,” Jason said as he removed his fingers and lubed his cock. Jason stretched Tim out enough that when Jason’s fingers left, Tim’s hole clutched at air for a moment before closing itself.

The older man climbed back between the younger’s legs, gently pushing them open until the former could clearly see the latter’s asshole. Jason took his cock in hand and lined it up with Tim’s entrance. He went in slowly, inch by inch, until he his Tim’s ass hit the base of his cock. Both groaned in satisfaction, Tim feeling full and Jason feeling Tim’s tightness.

Jason leaned forward, covering his partner’s upper body with his own, chests pressed together, mouth next to his partner’s ear. He pulled out slowly, as far as he could with the tip still in, before he slammed back into Tim. Tim made a noise that sounded somewhere between a mewl and a whimper--Jason loved it. So he repeated the action. Tim let slip the same noise, Jason growing impossibly harder.

“Babe, let this...” Jason began, interrupted by his own low groan as Tim clenched his asshole tightly around Jason, “...let this be a lesson that you’re wanted.” Jason ghosted over Tim’s ears with his words. The top felt the bottom shiver.

This time, when Jason pulled out slowly then slammed back into Tim, Tim's hands flew to Jason’s back, raking his nails along the broad shoulders and tight back muscles, leaving angry red trails. Jason moaned obscenely in response to Tim’s action. Tim might be small, but damn if his arms aren’t strong.

Jason continued with unrelenting passion until he couldn’t help himself and started pounding into Tim. Tim’s cries of ecstasy increased in volume and he didn’t let up on Jason’s back--not that Jason cared, mind you. Jason continued the whispered promises into Tim’s ear.

“Jay, Jay,  _ Jay _ ,” moaned Tim, unable to say his full name, “I’m...so...close.” His whispered statement interrupted by panting finished with a lewd moan to prove his point. Jason knew that moan all too well.

He lifted his head, looking down on Tim; his partner’s face scrunched up in bliss, mouth hanging open for the constant flow of vocalizing his pleasure, his stormy gray eyes hidden by closed eyelids. Jason crashed his mouth to Tim’s, swallowing the moan that came out. Tim kissed back, each of them pouring their hearts into that one kiss--every passion, every adoration, every love did not go unnoticed.

Jason sped up his pounding. With each hit against his ass, Tim let out an, “ah,” and Jason grunted and moaned until the only sounds filling the room consisted of skin slapping skin and the rhythmic noises falling from the boys’ lips. 

For the first time, they reached their climaxes together, moaning each other’s names, riding out their highs together, inhaling and exhaling through loudly and deeply.

Once they came down from their highs, they pulled away from each other. They took a moment to catch their breaths before Jason pulled out slowly, Tim jerking slightly at the movement from the post-orgasm oversensitivity, and collapsed next to Tim. His torso had some of Tim’s cum on it given their chests had no room in between.

And Tim--he looked stunning in his position. His stomach gleaned with small ropes of his cum, his hair sticking to his head as sweat nearly drenched his body, Jason’s cum leaking out of his asshole as it clenched air, pulsing quickly, taking a minute to close back in on itself due to Jason’s girth. True exhaustion mixed with genuine content painted Tim’s features as he lie on the bed, taking in everything that just happened.

Jason sat up, prepared to leave and get some towels when Tim grabbed his arm. “Where’re you goin’?” Tim’s words slurred together slightly, Jason assuming Tim still felt blissful.

And he could not be more right.

The older turned his head to face the younger, smiling down at him, and brushed the back of his hand against the latter’s cheek. “We need to clean you up, babe. Can’t fall asleep with that crap all over you.” Tim let go of Jason’s arm, the latter getting up to fetch a couple of towels from the bathroom reserved just for these occasions. 

Jason came back to find Tim’s eyes closed and chuckled softly to himself. His babybird exhausted himself tonight. Maybe at least his lover will actually get enough sleep for once.

Jason padded his way to Tim, lifting one of Tim’s legs gently to wipe the cum from his ass and where the cum decided to pool a little on the sheets. He then proceeded to clean off Tim’s lower stomach with another towel, the mess significantly reduced thanks to some splattering on Jason, who met with mumbling.

Jason took the towel and wiped his own torso down as he stalked to the hamper in the bedroom. He threw them in, then walked to join Tim in bed.

As soon as Jason tossed himself onto the bed, Tim curled up next to him, head resting on Jason’s chest and an arm flinging itself across Jason’s midsection. Tim mumbled something into Jason’s chest. “What was that, Timmy?”

“I love you, Jason,” Timmy stated, his statement punctuated with a yawn. 

Jason felt taken aback momentarily; they never said those words to each other before tonight, and Tim said them first. Jason let a soft smile dance across his lips as he looked down on his lover, pulled him closer as Jason snaked an arm around his partner and ran fingers through his hair.

“I love you, too, Tim.”

The younger snuggled deeper into the older’s chest, joy radiating off his person. Jason knew that Tim’s insecurities aren’t going to magically go away from this, but it’s a start.

And a start is always good.

***

_ Red Robin fought the thugs, never backing down. From this, he barely broke a sweat. All ten down in three minutes maximum. He smiled to himself, knowing the new drug was off the streets. _

_ From one of the crates, he heard a rhythmic tapping, almost knocking. He followed the sound to the back of the warehouse. He listened closely and opened a few crates before the sole one left contained the tapping noise. How he failed to find it sooner, he wished he knew. _

_ As he got closer, the tapping started getting louder until it grew into a loud thrumming in his ears and he could hardly concentrate on anything. He reached to open the crate, then a flock of crow escaped, flying jumbled towards his face until he saw nothing but black. The tapping continued until he felt himself get hit in the back of the head. _

Tim opened his eyes, immediately regretting that decision as the sunlight streaming through the window hit his eyes and he closed them again. He opened his eyes again, slowly this time, and observed his and Jason’s positions on the bed. Simply put, Jason lay sprawled beneath him while he lay sprawled on top of Jason, all covers either gathered at the end of the bed or thrown carelessly on the floor. Huh.

Tim’s attention did a 180 to the door as his ears picked up the rhythmic knocking in his dream. What time was it? Did they really sleep in that late? Tim groaned, thumping his head back down onto Jason’s shoulder. The man beneath him stirred, but not enough to wake. Beautiful. Tim now had to deal with their guest on his own. Jason’s lucky Tim loved him.

He dragged himself out of bed, quickly throwing on a pair of sweatpants (he didn’t know whose nor did he care) and Jason’s gray muscle shirt because of the convenience of it having been thrown closest to the bedroom. Tim stalked out of the room as a muffled voice, laced with worry by the sound of it, yelled, “Timmy! Ya here? I wanna talk about last night!”

That voice definitely belonged to Dick. Tim’s eyes widened in terror. Shit. He didn’t wear muscle shirts and Dick knew that. Oh God, how did his hair look? No, no no no, he could play this off; just gotta be careful with word choices and keeping the lies straight. Okay. He had this.

He padded his way to the door, opening it with the chain still in place. “Hiya, Timmy. Can I come in?” asked Dick sheepishly. He immediately noticed the muscle shirt Tim wore and the hickies blossoming on Tim’s neck and collarbone.

Okay, Tim can’t say no, that’d be too suspicious. Maybe he could take a raincheck? Say he’s too busy this...ah, morning? Afternoon? Dammit, why didn’t he check a clock? No wait, Dick knew Tim’s schedule. Damn him for sharing his schedule--Dick knows he’s not busy with anything today. He internally sighed at his self-defeat.

“Yeah, hold on,” answered Tim. He closed the door, unlocked the chain, and opened the door again, stepping aside as Dick entered the premises. The eldest walked to the kitchen, Tim filled to the brim with anxiety as the memory of Jason’s boots, jacket, and helmet sat in a direct line of sight of the kitchen. Alright, easy cover story: Jason got injured and needed help--plain and simple. But how injured? Shit, maybe too simple.

Tim followed after Dick, hoping and praying to whatever God is out there that Dick remained oblivious. Tim positioned himself opposite to Dick so Tim strategically blocked Jason’s things from Dick’s line of sight. Too bad Dick already noticed, unbeknownst to Tim.

Dick proceeded to unfurl the paper bag he brought to Tim’s, taking out an orange chicken dish and a beef lo mein dish. He figured Tim would be hungry because it was nearly 1 o’clock in the afternoon and Dick wanted a way to start his apology. 

He took out chopsticks, then took the empty bag and threw it in the trash, returning to his previous spot by the island, feigning oblivion to make his brother feel better. At least for now.

By the state of Tim’s hair, the eldest knew the younger slept well. Tim’s hair stuck up in awkward angles, thoroughly ruffled, and fluffy instead of silky smooth like it usually looked. Judging by the muscle shirt and hickies, there’s no mystery why Tim slept so well. Since Tim didn’t wear muscle shirts and the hickies decorating his skin, he either had a one-night stand (a little out of character for him, but he’s 18 now, so maybe it’s just him growing into that sort of thing, which was fine) or he’s hiding a boyfriend. If the latter, how long? Was Jason the boyfriend? The evidence fit, but Dick should hold off on an absolute decision until he sees any romantic action take place.

“Here,” Dick stated, holding out the orange chicken and a pair of chopsticks in Tim’s general direction. “I hope it’s still your favorite; last time I ate Asian take-out with you was about a year and a half ago,” Dick added a sheepish smile at the end.

Just as Tim reached out his hand to take the food and utensils, a movement caught in his peripheral vision. Both the brothers turned to see Jason in the doorway of the bedroom, stretching and yawning, sporting nothing on his body except sweatpants that hung just a bit too low to be appropriate for guests. Huh. Tim must’ve put on his own sweatpants. What luck. 

Each person not Jason reacted exactly as one would expect: Dick quirked an eyebrow at Jason, noting the absence of injury and an angry bite mark on the crook of his neck, then glanced back at Tim, who stood stiffly and also noticed the bite mark. Tim could muster nothing else to do but stare and gulp, gears in his head screeching to a halt as the rhythm of his heart increased. Dick couldn’t know, not yet at least, but fate failed to smile down on the couple and this completely scrapped the idea of waiting at least a year to tell anyone. 

Jason, completely oblivious to the current predicament, finished stretching, rubbing his eyes as he sluggishly walked towards Tim. Dick carefully set Tim’s food and utensils down, observing the scene with interest and curiosity. He did nothing but lean against the counter, forearms propping him up.

The second oldest in the room grabbed the youngest’s head, tipping it up from the chin, then reaching down to give a peck on the lips. Dick made no movement with the exception of his eyebrows shooting up in surprise and eyes widening a fraction. This display certainly indicated no brotherly love.

Jason trudged over to the kitchen sink, opening the cabinet doors above and pulling out a bowl. He closed the doors roughly, one bouncing back a little at the impact. He turned around, setting the bowl on the island and reached for the box of Cheerios. “Hey, honey,” started Jason, voice heavy with sleep, “what time is it?”

“12:50 in the afternoon, little wing,” Dick responded. He beat Tim to the punch. He might be the eldest, but he’s still a brother--brothers tease the shit out of each other in the best situations.

“Thanks, babe, but why are you using Dick’s nickname for me?” Jason questioned, still not on planet Earth just yet. Dick raised a hand, or more accurately a fist, to his mouth and cleared his throat. Jason looked at the source of the sound, and stared directly at Dick, but not quite seeing him. Absentmindedly, Jason said, “Afternoon, Dick.” He returned to pouring his cereal before the realization hit him.

“DICK!” Jason yelled loudly, involuntarily throwing himself back and caught the edge of the kitchen sink with his elbows before he had a chance to crash to the ground. His eyes found Dick’s, wild, as if a deer caught in the headlights. Dick’s eyes, on the other hand, possessed mirth, amusement, and slight confusion. “You...uh, when did you, uh get...did you see the, um, eh...Tim an-and me...you…” Jason trailed off, unable to form a coherent sentence as he attempted to lift himself upright on his feet.

Tim, though terrified, couldn’t help but also be amused by Jason’s situation and a smile found its way on the former’s face. If they got out of this alive, Jason’s not living this moment down for a long time.

“Nice claw marks, by the way,” Dick pushed, referring to the trails Tim’s fingernails left on Jason’s back. The two younger men blushed, looking down in shame, knowing immediately what Dick meant.

Tim scuffed his foot, fidgeting his hands on the hem of the muscle shirt while Jason just stared at the tile flooring, eyes wide as if it just reprimanded him for something. Dick leaned back against the counter, the edge digging into his lower back and arms crossed over his chest, watching the two other boys. The air thrummed with tension, no one person comfortable in the awkward silence.

Tim spoke first.

“Look, Dick, please don’t be angry. We didn’t think--”

“I’m not angry,” Dick cut him off. “Curious? Yes. Offended? Not quite. Intrigued? Confused? Absolutely. Angry? Never.” Dick unfolded his arms, resting one on the counter behind him and carded one through his hair. He sighed. “Look, I’m not judging; there’s no reason for me to. I’m just...confused...as to how this,” he gestured between the two with a hand, “happened. So, since I’m assuming Jay has no pressing matters today, I can hear your story over lunch. What food do you want, Jay?”

Jason shook himself from his reverie. He responded with the most intellectual thought he could muster: “Uh?”

Tim and Dick couldn’t help but snort. “He can share my orange chicken, it’s fine,” offered Tim.

“Maybe I want my own orange chicken. Did you ever think of that?” Jason said in a playful fashion. Tim gave his lover the most unimpressed expression, complete with arms folded over his chest and sassy hips angled just so. Jason sighed, drumming his fingers on the edge of the kitchen sink.

“Since we can’t hide it from you anymore, we’ll tell our story on the condition that you tell no one else. This is to remain secret until Tim and I are ready, got it?” Jason explained to Dick.

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” said Dick. Jason rolled his eyes in amusement; Dick was a grown man, but count on him to still have his childish ways--he was still a kid at heart. “Alright, time to dig in, then.”

Tim grabbed his orange chicken and chopsticks, Jason grabbed a fork from a kitchen drawer, and Dick grabbed his beef lo mein and chopsticks. Dick trailed after the two lovers to the sitting area, plopping down in a seat adjacent to the couch as the two others took their seats next to each other on the couch after the food found its way to the coffee table. The pizza box and 2-liter soda bottle still sat there, empty, from the night before. Jason removed the items, placing them beside the table.

Dick took his shoes off and put them off to the side, flexing his feet in the process. Dick leaned over, elbows digging into his knees. He asked them the one question that launched a day and night full of warm feelings and a weight lifted from the shoulders of the couple: “Let’s get started, shall we?”

**Author's Note:**

> I also have a tumblr by the same name; come say hi!
> 
> Make my day and leave some comments or kudos or both!


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